The New Girl
by Teen-Lyokofan7777
Summary: When Cassidy, a regular concession worker, meets the Inception gang, things are never the same again. Rated T for Safety.
1. Cassidy meets Cobb's Team

**I don't own Inception, but I do own Cassidy.**

Chapter 1

The air is hot for a spring June day. The birds are chattering as if with a long distance connection. My hands are getting soaked through the gloves that I am using. Another day at Cody Park, I guess. I sigh, wiping down a four seat table that had gotten ketchup on it the day before. It wasn't easy getting this job, but I am glad that soon Anessa will come and we can work the ticket booth and the cotton candy machine together.

Suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Jumping, I whirl around.

"Relax," the voice seems mellow, masculine, and, at the same time, melancholy. His bright brown hair is slicked back, but professional.

"If you are wondering when we open for food, we open at eleven, sir; rides, noon," I tell him right off the bat.

"Actually, I was thinking about asking you to come with me." He looks at me with blue eyes.

"Look, sir, I understand that you might be of some high authority here, but in case you haven't noticed, my shift began about an hour ago. I can't leave shift now. My bosses would fire me." I turn, pick up the red bucket, and go on to the next four-seat. Only, I find other men around that one. I go on to a blue table that is long. A girl, not much older or younger than me, I cannot tell, is sitting there, too. "Okay, I'll just go to the table that isn't in this part of the shady spot." I go over to the final table and wipe it clean.

Going back inside, I put the bucket on a shelf next to the sink. "Two tables were taken, Judy. I couldn't wipe them down."

"Okay, Cassidy, did you get the tables in the rides area?"

"I did those first."

"Trash walk?"

"I did that before the tables. Alexander and Forrest got Ole Glory flying before I pedaled my bike into the building to begin my shift."

"Good. Why don't you start portioning the mac n cheese wedges? Yesterday, more kids wanted them than they would anything else."

I smile, "Yep." I go into the freezer. Right away, there is another man in there. One I didn't know.

"Hello…I'm sure your boss would let you off shift."

"No! I already took two sick days. I can_not_ take any more. I have to stay here," I search for, and find, the mac n cheese triangles box. "I need the money for college." I take the box to the portion table, and then go back for an empty box. The man is still there. "I thank you for trying to spring me, but I can't leave. Last time I nearly got fired for leaving early."

"What if we tell you that you can earn more big bucks for college," the guy speaks with a slight Asian accent.

"Sorry, I'm more of a hard-work no-sleaze girl."

"Okay, we'll wait until after your shift is done. Mr. Cobb will be waiting."

I walk to the freezer's entrance and—yes—freeze. "Wait a second. Who are you?"

"You can call me Mr. Saito, or Saito-kun," he whispers.

"Um…"

"If you are that sure you can't leave, we'll wait for you."

I gulp nervously. "S-sure, Mr. Saito."

It was quite interesting for the entire day. They stayed around for that time. I feel wiggly inside. What do they want with me? At one o'clock in the afternoon, the end of my shift, I focus determinedly on the task at hand. Getting home is top priority now. I sign off on my time card, take off my name tag and hat, attach the former to the latter, put it away in the break room, put on my helmet, clip pack, and iPod, unlock my iPod and play music, unlock the door in front of me, take my bike outside, and lo and behold, the men and the only woman are standing in front of me. "Um..."

They come near me, forcing me into the recyclable trash bins. "Um… I didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry if I did, but I really need to get home." The wiggly feeling gets worse, and it feels I may lose control of my bladder. "Please, let me go home."

"Mr. Cobb has a job offer he would like to discuss with you," Mr. Saito, the man I saw in the freezer, says.

My heart jiggles with fear. "Um…I'm happier with my job here." My hairs stand on end, even the nonexistent ones on my shins, calves, and armpits. I start to hunch and look shy-eyed. My breathing goes shallow.

Mr. Cobb, the one I saw earlier in my shift, is holding a silver suitcase. "You can still work your job here. That is not a problem. Today is Sunday after all."

I am cornered. "Do my grandparents and aunt know about this? They'll get worried if I don't get home."

The girl sits beside me. "It'll be okay. They've been informed."

I get on the bike carefully. "Okay…" I ran out of arguments the moment they cornered me.

"Come with us."

I sigh. "Do I have a choice?" The brunette girl opened her mouth when I glared. "That was rhetorical."

"Oh."

My legs slowly pump on the pedals. I would've been singing along to Evanescence or Franne Golde by now. I am mostly an oldies girl. However, I have this feeling of distrust. What are these men and this only girl doing here and why do they need me? They look like a well-built-together team. They shouldn't have the necessity to need me. It was a doozy.

I feel a hand at my back. I look to see the blue-eyed, business-slick-haired man, who I assume is Mr. Cobb. "You're going to be okay."

Already home is sounding so far away. My stomach starts to ache as if one of the men around Mr. Cobb stopped me, lifted me off the seat, held my arms and legs back, and one of the other men sucker-punched me; then put me back into the seat. The situation looks either dire or strange. I consider the possibility of speed-pedaling away at an impossible speed, but I know that they might catch me.

I'm not built for a three-point-seven mile chase…yet. I tried that one time getting to my Driver's Ed. Class, but I ended up so tired my back started pinching and my throat felt on fire. I vowed never to go that far again until I get better at distance, and I bring a water bottle.

They lead me to the seedy hotel on Rodeo Road. "Oh, hell, no, I don't want to go in there. My aunt told me it is bad. Drug cartels…"

The well-built-together team looks to each other. Maybe they never had a slightly belligerent girl on board before. The girl looks stern. "I told you this hotel was a bad idea, Mr. Cobb! Oh, but _Mal of all people_ told you otherwise…"

"Okay, I'll find another hotel, Ariadne," Mr. Cobb sighs calmly though it looks like he ticked her off before.

One of the other men go ahead to check out of the hotel. It looks like one of those hotels that you can check out at any time. I see that they are huddled around each other and decide to bolt. Luckily my house is nine or ten blocks away. Unfortunately, I see Mr. Saito as I about-face. _Oh, holy…_

"Don't even think about it," he smirks.

"Says the tourist," says a man. I believe he said his name was Yusuf. He looks to have come from South America somewhere. _Do some of these men have visas? Where do I go from here? _I am starting to run out of options.

One of the men starts up his laptop and is soon typing like a maniac. "The Holiday Inn work well?"

I nod.

"Yusuf, start up the van," Mr. Cobb orders. "There is no way that she will make it over there on her bike."

"Do you want to start up the job training in the van?"

"No. She might end up in the 'kick' several times judging by the road conditions. I want to do it while I'm in a stable environment. That way if there is a need for me to give the kick, it can be done on my terms."

"Okay."

"What's 'the kick'?" I ask, a pang of nervousness galloping through my heart. Are they going to take me to the hotel so they can murder me?

"Relax… we're not murderers," Mr. Cobb looks to me calmly.

_How does he know?_

"We're going to take you to a hotel and then give you some on-the-job training."

"But…"

"You don't need an interview or application to turn into us."

I feel heat rise up in my cheeks. Are they going to turn me into a prostitute? The girl, Ariadne, doesn't look a day over seventeen, but they might've gotten to her, too.

A warm hand meets my back. "Relax. We aren't going to do anything that you fear we are." I look into the chocolate brown eyes of Ariadne.

Soon, a black van rides up to us. "We're ready, Dom," Yusuf calls from the driver's side.

"Good." Arms link through mine. _Gee, it's as if we are friends already!_ I try to pull them back out, but they are in there tight. I look to the left of me; Ariadne is there; the right, Saito joins me. Sighing, seeing there is no backing out of this one, I give up and allow them to frog march me into the van. I buckle my seat belt as soon as I'm in a chair. There is no brown burlap bag or white cloth in any of their pockets, but I do smell something sweet and heavy in the air. What had this van been used for? I decide to pocket my questions until later.


	2. The First drugging

Chapter 2

We get to the hotel that I agree with. Saito and Ariadne kept me in between them the whole ride. I don't know how I got into this mess, but I know that I cannot get out of it. I try to keep myself calm. _Okay, girl, don't panic. It'll get you nowhere._ However, to tell you the truth, I am shaking, my heart is racing, it feels as if I'm in trouble with the cops, and I can feel my hands moisten up with stress sweat.

Mr. Cobb goes in and checks us in. Though we have separate rooms, Mr. Cobb, Ariadne, Saito, and Yusuf lead me into room 129. Saito is showing a sickeningly scary smile as I sit down in a chair, trying to keep calm. "Please lay down on one of the beds."

I sigh as I get up and lay down on the silky smooth comforter. No need to tick off my new set of bosses. I'm still nervous. Is this a test?

"Good girl."

Is that it? Just lie down on the bed and be praised? I can hardly call that a "job". More like a slavery chain.

Then I hear a knock at the door. "Is she ready, Dom?"

Ariadne opens the door. "Yes, Eames."

"Oh, good… I have Yusuf's formula. Do you want to use it?"

"No. Let's try a milder formula first."

My eyes widen as I get nervous. _They're going to rape me. I'm about to lose my virginity._

"Just relax, Cassidy," Mr. Cobb is laying right beside me. Are we… Oh perish it. This man's older than he looks. He knows better…I think. "We're not going to rape you."

Eames opens up the suitcase Mr. Cobb was carrying earlier and unravels some clear tubing. As I've seen it twice in my lifetime, I instantly know what the tubing is for. My eyes widen, but then relax. It's of no use to panic, I sigh to myself. They've got this place covered, front and back. Yusuf's at happy hour (where they serve beer, wine, and other alcoholic beverages). Arthur's outside of the room, guarding the door. Ariadne is in front of the bathroom in the room, eyes scanning for movement.

Eames and Saito come to us on either side of the bed. Saito is on my side (the right, as Mr. Cobb wanted left), while Eames is with the man next to me. I give him a look that says "Do what you must."

"It's not as bad as all that," he tries to sympathize, or sympathizes. The jury is out today.

"And how do you know that?" I try not to glower.

"Because I've been in your position before," He smiles. It does seem that he knows.

I hand him my right wrist. Right away his rough, calloused fingers start rubbing it. I try to hold back a shiver. His hands are cold. Suddenly, his finger feels at a point at the top of my right wrist. He looks up at me. "Surgery?"

At first I'm stunned at how he found out so quickly. Then I cower. "Um…"

He lowers his gaze. Then he asks, "Where?"

"Down my throat. Tiny esophagus. I don't…"

"Ah…you don't wish to talk about it," Saito looks up again.

"Yeah, maybe later."

He carefully inserts the needle and attaches the cuff. I wince slightly. The drug feels like nothing I've ever experienced. It strikes to my heart and brain like lightning. My senses scramble, only to find themselves in a dead slumber long before my thoughts turn incoherent.

**111**

I find myself in a world that feels so cold at one end of the spectrum, and yet it feels so different. I look around, but sigh. I've been here before in dreams. Suddenly, before I can describe what sector I am in, I explode into a million pixels, finding myself in a sort of scanner room. I see Mr. Cobb looking at me.

"You should never dream from memory," he scolds me gently.

"Sorry for misunderstanding the rules," I turn away sheepishly.

"That is why Ariadne is our Architect. You are not the first one to do this mistake."

A small crowd starts to emerge from out of nowhere. Most I recognize; others I've either forgotten or don't know them as well as I hope.

"These are projections, mostly harmless, all of them."

I look to him. "Are you sure?"

He smiles a little. "Yep. If they were intending to seriously harm us, one of the first signs is that they would be staring at us."

I see a woman staring at us. She looks like Marion Cotillard. "Like that one?"

Mr. Cobb's eyes widen. "No. Not her. Not Mal."

"Who is Mal?"

"Now's not a good time to ask."

"Should we run?"

"You should. This is almost how Ariadne's second dream ended in disaster. She never forgave me after that."

"RUN!" I race up the ladder into the lab. A blond kid with glasses is typing away at the keyboard. I don't have time to greet him, so I race past him and jump into the elevator.

I press the UP button and watch as the metal doors close. Since I think this is a dream, I have no reason to pant in exertion, right? Wrong. I start to wheeze, wondering why she has a grudge against people around Mr. Cobb. The metal grinds and whirs until it comes to a halt. A metal door behind me opens and Mr. Cobb is waiting for me. I look around frantically. "What the—?! I mean you…and she…"

"You forget that you are the dreamer here."

"I'm dreaming?"

"Yes. Just relax. You have been doing so well so far. Aside from Arthur, Nash, and Eames, I have never seen someone last so long in their first time before." His eyes cloud, as if Nash met a gruesome fate.

"No wonder I'm in the factory in France. I'm dreaming," I try to smile. "Thank you for the job offer. I can accept."

Suddenly, bomb charges materialize on the beams. "I told you to relax, Cassidy."

"Oops." I take a few deep breaths, and they disappear. "Sorry."

"I'm impressed that you can make things disappear just by taking the steps to relax. Maybe you can make Mal disappear."

"I'm not an expert yet."

"Soon you'll be able. Right now, let's keep running."

We race up the ramp, which I put my OC on because she is afraid of the ropes, and into the outside. "She's a madwoman," I spit.

"We need a place to hide. Make something up. Make the impossible."

I close my eyes, concentrating, when suddenly my body slams up against a wall.

"You really need to manifest objects with your eyes open someday."

I open them, and look up. My heart heats up with inner joy and excitement that my finger pops up into the air and I yell excitedly, "That's it! This is it! I did it! I can't believe it. I did it!"

"What is this building?"

"Kadic's dormitory building. It's a perfect place to hide! I can't believe I manifested this building. Holy cow!" I start to race inside. The interior around us builds. Stairs start to pop in and we race up to the girls' dorm. I hope to God that I didn't manifest Jim Morales. If he caught Mr. Cobb, who knows what the outcome would be? I know that I am the girl with the magic mind-remote-control, but Mr. Cobb is not one to be controlled.

I look around and we race toward the door that I believe is Aelita's room. I open it and gawk at the detail. It's just what my fan fiction Return to the Past, NOW had depicted. A two-person dormitory, with a long table at the end near the windows, two closets, one computer, and notebooks full of visions is right before my eyes. I sit on the left bed. "We should be safe here."

Mr. Cobb spins a tiny top. Instead of toppling, it keeps on spinning. He soon catches it mid-spin.

"We are still in my dream. No wonder I didn't feel pain or dizziness," I figure.

Mr. Cobb looks around the room and opens Aelita's drawer on her bed. I react as any girl would. "Hey! That's Aelita's stuff! Don't rummage it!"

"Easy… I found what I was looking for." He lifts up the silver suitcase from reality.

"How does that pop up from out of nowhere?"

"It just does."

"Really?" I am intrigued.

"Yes. Now, levels. There are 4 levels of a dream. Do you want to go down to level 2?"

"I didn't know that I was on level 1."

"You are. You were in reality when this dream began. Now, do you want to go to level 2?"

"What about that madwoman?"

"I'll handle her. I promise."

I sigh and lay down on the bed in a way that my right wrist is shown to him. "Okay."

He opens the case and unravels the tubing. "You're going in alone. You won't be able to go to levels 3 or 4."

"I understand. I'm…"

"I know you are scared of hurting yourself or drugging yourself unless you end up sick."

"Thank you." I lift up my pink sleeve. It was strange, because I was wearing a yellow shirt after I got off work.

He rubs my wrist and touches that point. "Perfect," he smiles.

I close my eyes. _Here we go. Level 2 of dreaming._ I hear the suitcase hiss with steam before the needle touches my skin. I grimace a little, not used to the drug. My senses frenzy, but again, the sleep overtakes them. My thoughts start to slowly fall incoherent.

**222**

I find myself at…home, circa 1999. There is dark brown carpeting in the room across the living room and the kitchen that would be Grandpa's office in later years. But there is an uninvited guest.

Mal.


End file.
